Comforting shadows
by wunderwolfer
Summary: Leliana will do anything not to lose Amell again but will Hawke forget herself to help her. Leliana x F/Amell
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon age origins or Dragon age 2. I'm glad, I hate playing games when I know the ending and Bioware games are the best.

Warning: Contains Dragon age origins and Dragon age 2 SPOILERS. Don't read if you haven't finished them. It also contains FEMxFEM pairings so don't read if you don't like it. I mean there's some excellent heterosexual stories on Fanfic so why bother reading this and complaining! It's a good waste of Fanfic time in my opinion.

This my first Fanfic and it's a draft as I'd like input but please be nice. I bruise so very easily.

* * *

><p>The assassin watched the house from the shadow of the alleyway. It was cold and dark. Clouds guarded any chance of moonlight and frost had begun to cover the city until every surface glittered and shone when the light occasionally escaped its confines. The waiting woman hopped from foot to foot stamping her feet not to keep warm but to ward off her mounting agitation. She was surprised by her impatience. She had stood outside countless houses, estates, even castles, patiently waiting to put her carefully laid plans into action. She was never one to rush into anything and found reassurance in watching and manipulating her carefully laid her plans into place. Perhaps her anxiety was due to the dangerous nature of her target or maybe it was her eagerness for the reward she could receive; if she played her cards right.<p>

Her eyes noted movement in the household. _Right on time_, she smiled. She had been watching the estate for days, learning the nightly routines and habits of the house, and exactly on cue she watched the servant's procession of candlelight move from window to window and then disappear entirely as they retired to their warm comfy beds. She shook her head. That was the good thing about breaking into estates their meticulously punctual routines. It made it so easy it was almost boring.

Her heart began to race slightly and her limbs twitched impatiently for movement but she forced her body to wait a while to ensure that they were fully asleep and having seen the mistress of the house leave a few hours ago she was satisfied that as long as she was careful her entry would go unnoticed. After a good hour she quickly peered out of the alley and checked that the streets were empty, leaned her weight onto her back leg before sprinting towards the house using the forward momentum to place a foot on the wall, leap up and pull herself through the open window before dropping soundlessly into the estate's kitchen. She crouched on the floor and listened for any signs that she had been detected. The estate was shrouded in darkness and remained eerily quiet. They only sound was a low rumbling noise coming from the adjoining room. She had memorised the layout of the estate and moved quickly through the house, her experienced steps quick and light. Entering the main hall she found the source of the noise. A large sleeping Mabari was lying on his back snoring loudly, his legs twitching as he ran through his dreams. She almost felt sorry for drugging those Maibari crunch but the intelligent Guard dog would be awake in a few hours probably furious that the assassin bard had managed to evade him. She crept past the sleeping hound and nimbly climbed the staircase.

Entering the lady's bedroom she slowly closed the door behind her careful not to make a sound. Allowing herself to relax slightly she took a deep breath and turned to survey the room. The candles were not lit but a large fire burned in the heath expelling its light creeping across the surfaces of the room. The heat from the fire made her chapped hands sting and she narrowed her dilated eyes as they adjusted to the light. She had been in more ladies' bedrooms that she would ever admit to anyone and was surprised to find that it was a modestly decorated for a noble's room, a severe lack of feathers and bold colours the woman observed. The only extravagance was a large foreboding bed that dominated the room proudly declaring the room's purpose. Turning from the bed she moved around the room looking over the furniture and opening the cupboards and drawers to scrutinise their contents. A simple desk on the right side of the room held the lady's journal and she flicked through the pages absent-mindedly probably a very valuable item for her employers. She wondered whether she should take it once she had finished with her.

A loud bang shook the serenity of the estate as the front door slammed shut. She froze in shock unsure of what to do and held her breath as she listened for any encroaching steps. She heard the woman's voice talking quietly in the main hall probably to a servant that had got out of bed to greet her. She quickly estimated the amount of time this afforded her. Without looking she threw the diary at the desk and frantically searched the rest of the room for any hidden surprises. Confident that there were none she ran to the heath removed the fire guard and damped down the fire to a slow burn before striding to the darkest part of the room, in the far left hand corner between the wall and a wardrobe. Stepping backwards she let the shadows envelope her. She faced the door waiting for the women to enter. The woman's sudden return had startled her and she tried slowing down her racing heart by breathing deeply and slowly, each breath steadying her anxious nerves. She listened to the stairs creak as the lady slowly ascended the staircase.

Her blonde target entered closing the door quietly behind her. Walking into the room she leaned her staff against the desk, kicked off her shoes and yawned brazenly not bothering to cover her wide open mouth. The masked assassin followed her progress across the room, moving forward slightly from the shadows to peer around the wardrobe. She looked utterly exhausted. Her weary eyes were red from lack of sleep and she stooped heavily as she looked around her bedroom. The Bard watched as the lady slowly crossed the room to the bed, such a contrast to the proud and confident posture the women usually wore. The bard smiled; it pleased her to see the lady so vulnerable; she could never take on the mage otherwise.

Dragging her tired feet across the room the blonde massaged her eyes and looked ready to fall fully clothed onto her soft comfortabe bed. When suddenly she stopped in her tracks pulled her hand quickly away from her face and her eyes snapped back to the desk. The intruder's breath hitched in her throat as she followed the mage's gaze. In her haste to the hide she hadn't realised that the journal had fallen from the desk and she cursed the stupid blunder. She poked her head further out of the shadows as the mage turned her back to her. Moving towards the desk she picked up her journal from the floor and placed it slowly and thoughtfully back on the wooden desk, before turning abruptly with her hands on her hips. The intruder's head quickly snapped back behind the wardrobe with a silent gasp. The primary part of her plan relied upon the element of surprise and if she was found then her scheme would unravel and fail. She held her breath pressing her back into the wall, desperately trying to delve deeper into the shadows that surrounded her as she heard the mage's footsteps stalk towards her.

But instead of confronting the bard she watched the mage move to the fireplace and frown at the unusually low fire and absence of a fire guard. Kneeling down on the hearth with a groan she took a poker to the fire to try and encourage the flames. Unsuccessful she sighed, placed some logs on the fire and held her right hand before them. The intruder breathed out in satisfied relief that she remained undiscovered and watched in fascination as small flames grew from the lady's finger tips before licking down her fingers to collect in the middle of her palm. The fireball grew slowly due to her low mana and the woman noticed that the fatigued mage had begun to sweat with the excursion. She grunted as she turned her head to watch the progression of the spell and flexed her fingers back and forth the motion flattening and curving her palm as the fireball started to throb in her hand.

The fireball grew suddenly forcing light into the dark corners of the room, catching on the metal that adorned her observer's clothing. The ever vigilant lady caught the flash of light in the corner of her eye and yelled in alarm. Falling backwards she scrambled away from the intruder, the fireball sprang from her fingers burning a dark patch into the ceiling. Quickly jumping to her feet she held the blunt poker in front of her threateningly. The armed woman couldn't help but roll her eyes at the lady's improvised weapon. She watched the mage's face flush red with fury and suddenly remembered not to underestimate how dangerous her target was; with or without a weapon.

The mage's eyes burned darkly as she quickly glanced at her staff she had left by her desk. Glad that she had checked the room for any sharp hidden objects the trespasser quickly stepped into the dim light of the fireplace before the lady could move. The woman lifted her right hand upwards towards her covered head, causing the mage to growl in warning at the sudden movement. Such a feral sound to pass the typically polite lips surprised the intruder and she froze for a second before raising her other hand in surrender to stop the mage. She continued the movement of her right hand to the back of head, found the end of the dark scarf that had covered her face and slowly began to unwrap her mask.

Recognising the intruder the Lady lowered her weapon slightly, "You?" She said in astonishment. "What in Maker's name are you doing in my home?" She added angrily.

Leliana only responded with an affirmative nod towards the Champion of Kirkwall. She didn't want to talk and she didn't want the mage to talk either; it would make everything that followed so much easier. She slowly walked towards the surprised apostate until they were barely a step apart and lightly gripped her wrist, moving the other hand to take the poker out of her grasp. Hawke breathed in sharply instinctively tightening her grip.

_Why would she trust her she barely knew her?_

Leliana gave Hawke her most reassuring smile and kept her eyes on the mage as she slowly unsheathed the daggers on her back using only her forefinger and thumb in a motion that assured the attentive mage that she had no intention of using them and threw them into the far corner of the room, the hidden knives at her hip and in her boot soon following suit. A disarmed rogue was no longer a threat to a powerful mage such as herself and Leliana saw Hawke relax slightly. Curiosity outweighing her anger Hawke watched the bard with a puzzled expression as she took the poker from her hand.

Leliana inwardly smiled. She still had a gift for making people feel at ease even under the most unusual situations. An important and compulsory talent for a Bard assassin; content targets were always easier to manipulate and to kill if the situation called for it. The Orlesian knew that the mage was rarely complacent but a startled and surprised Hawke would be just as easy for to control. She tried not to smile at the small success or the nervous excitement that shook her body as the adrenaline coursed seductively through her veins. She'd forgotten how much she loved the game especially when everyone played along.

Leliana dropped the poker onto the ground but her eyes never left the mage's face and her hand still gripped the lady's wrist. She had finally gotten close enough to the apostate and used the opportunity to examine the woman's face. She had to admit that there were some discrepancies but these could be forgiven; the poor light had helped to veil them. But those large blue eyes should be green; it was painfully irritating and she wondered if she could rectify the problem.

Hawke begun to blush under the scrutiny and proximity of the beautiful red-head and began to step backwards. The action forced the assassin to move faster. She grabbed hold of the mage's collar and quickly closed the gap between them pulling her forwards for a kiss.

Unreciprocated and short, Hawke pushed Leliana gently away by the shoulders astonished by the stranger's actions "What the bl..."

The bard held a finger to the mage's lips to silence her. The kiss had the desired affect and stunned the Champion. Leliana used the opportunity to lightly grab the mage's arms, manoeuvring her gently until her back faced the only light source in the room. Hawke's eyes dulled until their colour was indistinguishable and the affect was astounding. Leliana felt a force grip her heart and gasped as a ghost appeared. She smiled as she reached out to gently stroke the warm cheek, her face filling with love for a dead woman.

Hawke's watched the loving expression on the stranger's face and her large eyes widened as she realised the bard's intentions; the pirate or Bodham must have told her of her striking resemblance to the woman. The bard watched the empathy and pity wash over the Champion's features. She had experienced so much grief and tragedy in her life, enough to rival her own.

* * *

><p>"She lost her sister while fleeing the blight in Lothering. And her Mother was killed a few years ago. Bad business with a blood mage, found her body too" Bodham said sadly.<p>

Leliana nodded sadly in sympathy. She had been surprised to find out that her old friend was working for the Champion of Kirkwall and had eagerly sought him out. Her objective as set by the Divine Justinia V herself was to investigate the tense situation between the mages and templars of Kirkwall. The ways things were progressing revolution was inevitable without a Viscount so it made sense that she found out where the Champion's loyalties lay. A strange coincidence that she should find the same Dwarfs who had aided the Hero of Ferelden serving the Champion of Kirkwall.

She told him that she was in Kirkwall to visit the Chantry and thought she'd visit her old friends while she was in the city. It had saddened her to lie to him but better that then pull him into political concerns. Who knows what the Reverend Mother would ask her to do if she saw Hawke as a threat to the Chantry. And she would do it too without question.

Bodham had welcomed her kindly almost crying with happiness at meeting his friend again. He insisted she stayed for lunch at the estate and she was hesitant until he explained that they were quite lonely with the mistress in Sudermount and would be grateful for the company. Orana made them a splendid lunch in the Kitchen and happily left the friends to their chatter.

"You were in Lothering just before the blight weren't you. Maybe you knew them?" Bodham continued as he watched her thoughtfully.

"I don't think so. Hawke wasn't it? I can't remember any families with that name." She watched Bodham's unusually pensive expression and wondered whether he suspected her real objectives. She alleviated the awkwardness by tickling Sandel who sat next to her until he giggled with glee.

"Enchantment!" He shouted excitedly making Leliana smile while Bodham remained thoughtful and quiet.

After lunch Leliana requested a tour of the estate and Bodham was happy to show her. He paraded her through each room his chest swelling with pride as he explained in detail the great changes they had made since Hawke's family had acquired the estate. Leliana listened carefully watching his unwavering smile as he led her through the estate and felt a warm delight at having found her friend in such a happy position.

The last room he took her to was the library where the lady spent most of her time, Bodham explained. She looked around the in amazement. The lady obviously had a great passion for reading Leliana had never seen such a large private collection. Each shelf was crammed full of books and piles of them had begun to collect on the floor and desks. The bard was impressed by the large collection but she did not have any interest in written tales, verbal accounts were so much more personal and engaging. She casually glanced over some of the titles. Mostly about Magi and many of them banned by the Chantry she noted. There was also some fictional tales all of them brooding romances or exhilarating adventures. She arched an eyebrow and rolled her eyes finding it funny that such a woman would want to escape an exciting reality for a fictional one.

Bodham cleared his throat to gain her attention and she turned from the bookshelves to find him standing below the family portraits with an apprehensive frown. She looked at the paintings immediately recognised their features. She didn't recognise Hawke's father, Bodham had said he had died before she was in Lothering, but her sister and mother had often attended the Chantry services.

She nodded miserably as she realised the implications. "Yes I knew them. In Lothering they went by Oakes" she explained. Probably to avoid inquisitive Templars she speculated to herself. "Bethany often attended my recitals at the Chantry such a caring and friendly girl." She swallowed forcing down the lump that rose in her throat. _Another good soul lost to that blasted blight. _

"She commissioned the painting of her sister as soon as she was granted the estate. She was very pleased with the likeness." He pointed to the next picture of a young man who Leliana didn't recognise. A handsome man though his face was unsmiling and his jutting jaw arrogant and proud. "Her brother Caver and Bethany's twin. He is a Templar in Kirkwall," he said rather curtly.

Leliana's face remained nonchalant but she was astonished by this new information_. The apostate's brother is a templar! _She knew that there was more to that story but she didn't press the Dwarf. It was obvious that he didn't like the young master and he was too loyal to reveal too much of his mistress' private life.

"Do you remember the Mistress?" He pressed. Leliana was too busy looking at the portrait and barely acknowledged the question with a negative response. She scrutinised the portrait of the Templar as if it could provide her with clues to the Champion's allegiances._ How would this affect the situation in Kirkwall?_ She would have assumed that an apostate would favour the circle mage's bid for freedom but then this would mean apposing her brother and even placing him in danger by encouraging the revolutionists. Or perhaps he was placed in the order as a spy she mused.

"There is a portrait of her over here," he said apprehensively walking behind her to the opposite side of the room. "But Serrah I must warn you.."

Leliana rolled her eyes at the title and turned with a smile ready to reprimand her friend for his formality. But then she saw her painting. All thoughts and actions ceased and she gasped in shock as she felt the heavy hit to her chest at the sight.

"Her mother's maiden name was Amell. They were cousins," he said quickly. He didn't have to explain who he referred too. She became light headed and her legs buckled beneath her. Staggering slightly the Dwarf grabbed a chair from the desk and sat her down.

"They never met. Hawke's family protected her and her sister from the circle" he softly explained as he rubbed Leliana's hand trying to console her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shown you. I thought it better to tell you in case your saw her in the city" he said sadly. "The similarities are disturbing and it took me many months to...adjust. I know how close you were to her. I thought you should know. I'm sorry."

Leliana barely heard the Dwarf as she stared at the painting. The young woman glared down at the bewildered bard. Dressed in the armour of a mage she sat on a low chair, one hand loosely held a rolled scroll on her lap and the other tightly gripped a elaborate wooden staff which dug into the ground beside her. The chained walls of Kirkwall rose from a stormy sea behind her, menacing and dark. Her expression was proud and poised but her face was so familiar. Below the painting a plaque read, 'A gift from the people of Kirkwall to their Champion'. Leliana's mouth dried and she tried to swallow the dizzy wave of nausea that passed through her body as she doubled over in her seat clutching her stomach. Bodham quickly left to fetch her some water.

Leliana had no image of her grey warden and as the years passed since her death she felt the warden slowly slip from her memory. Every person she met that reminded her of the warden and every preposterous story spouted by the storytellers, distorted and altered her memory until even she wasn't even sure what was fact and what was fiction. But the Champion's resemblance was so striking that the truth of Amell's features came back like a hard grip around the bard's throat. Her eyes hesitantly lifted back to the portrait. The Champion loomed over her, ridiculing her inability to hold on to the cherished memory. She sobbed in anguish and her heart beat raced in her chest. She stood suddenly on her trembling legs in an atempt to shake off her anxiety but the ferocity of her distress only increased as whispering voices seemed to speak in her ears mocking her misery and guilt. _How could she have been so unfaithful? How could she forget her? _She tried to swallow and breath but the imaginary grip around her throat seemed to tighten. Her vision began to blur and the colours and lines of the painting twisted and merged distorting the mage's face into a menacing grimace. She gasped as she tried to breath in vain. Clutching her chest her eyes rolled back and she slipped gratefully into peaceful quiet darkness.

* * *

><p>She had to find out more about the apostate. For her investigation she told herself.<p>

Varric Tethras her sources told her, he was the dwarf to see if you wanted to hear tales of the apostate and she found him at the Hanged Man in Lowtown. Leliana was pleased to find a kindred spirit; he was a warm, funny, quick witted and had a genuine passion for storytelling. Leliana had a great skill is being able to read people quickly. She determined he was too intelligent for lies so she gently bent the truth. She told him she was a musician that had come to Kirkwall under the order of her client in to compose a Ballard of the Champion's adventures.

Leliana ensured that the Dwarf's tankard remained full and in return he was happy to recount the apostates's rise to power. Varric was an amazing and charming narrator. His tale was rich and engaging, full of complex characters, villains and victims, betrayals, tragedies and victories. The bard could tell he had embellished some of the tale but Leliana was too engrossed in the tall tale to query him. She gasped as the mage felled the orge, growled as Caver betrayed her sister and cried when she found the remains of her mother. He finished his story with the illustrious mage defeating the mighty warrior Arishok, saving her love and also the city of Kirkwall. She smiled dreamily at the romantic ending but a moment of doubt flashed across her mind as she realised who he was talking about.

"The Rivaini Captain Isabela?"

"You've heard of her?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I have heard of her...reputation. A friend of mine met her once." She remembered Amell telling her at how she met the Captain while in Denerim. The maiden had blushed and giggled as she recounted the lusty Captain's proposition at the campsite, carefully watching the Bard's expression. But Leliana didn't find it funny in the slightest and stormed back to her tent. It was in this moment that Leliana realised that her feelings for the mage were more than friendship. She hid her anger from the mage but privately raged with jealousy and hated the pirate she had never met.

"Ah." The Dwarf chuckled knowingly at her expression and pointed to the next table. A beautiful dark haired wench was lounged across a sailor's knee, laughing and joking with the crowd of men and women who swarmed around her. Like moths round a flame. More like wasps round sugar water. Noticing her staring the pirate winked suggestively at the pretty redhead who cursed the involuntary blush that rose to her cheeks.

She turned angrily on the Dwarf feeling betrayed and cheated. "But..you said...didn't the Champion fight the Arisok for her. You said they loved each other!" She pouted.

"Hey" Varric chuckled as he raised his hands in surrender," As every good storyteller knows the tips are always better with a happy ending." The smile fell from his face as he watched the Captain kiss the sailor hungrily, before pulling down the man standing behind her to kiss him too. "But in life those conclusions are hard to come by," he turned his sad eyes back to Leliana "Why wouldn't I want some happiness for my friends even if it is a fabrication."

She nodded sadly._ Reality has not been kind to either of us Hawke. _She shook her head at the woman's stupidity. She couldn't understand why the pirate would dally with these indifferent suitors when there was a good woman who loved her. Her heart sank with empathy. Not only did the Champion have the anguish of losing her entire family but she had the sorrow of unanswered love. She wondered what was worse, to have lost her love or to have her love so painfully ridiculed.

Varric interrupted her musing, "So, musician how about an artistic exchange? A story for a story, from one teller of tales to another." Varric leaned back in his chair touching the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully. "You say you're just from Ferelden. How about...'The tragedy of the bard and her grey warden'. I've heard it's a popular song in the country." He smiled pleasantly at the red-headed bard his intelligent eyes watched her every expression with interest.

_Does he know who she is?_

The song had indeed become famous, ever since she had composed and regaled it for the royal court at Amell's memorial. It had been nearly a month since she had died and Leliana still mourned deeply for her. Her body felt wasted and tired, she was sick of waking up alone, sick of all the crying, sick of all the sleepless nights but she was determined to speak the truth and honour the women and not a legend.

She remembered the performance well, standing alone in the middle of the court her heart racing wildly with stage fright. Closing her eyes she held back the nauseous rumblings in her stomach by imagining that she sang only to her. She sung of their love that grew from their meeting in Lothering and ended with the warden's sacrifice at Denerim and she sung of her lament and her loss for the fragile woman that had died for them all. Her fantasy was broken when the ballad ended and the audience erupted into applause.

Leliana was exhausted by the ordeal. It was the first time she had spoken of the warden in the past tense as she furiously refused to discuss her with her friends. She was angry at everyone; at her friends for not saving her, at herself for not stopping her and at the maker for taking her. Speaking of her in the past felt like a betrayal, as an admittance that she was dead and it left her feeling empty and lost.

King Alistair had silently cried during the song and at the outro had unashamedly hugged the bard in gratitude for the memories it had invoked. She stood still and frozen by the action. Out of the companions Leliana had despised him the most for her death even though she knew in her heart he was blameless. She knew the tale they had told her; fully intent on killing the Archdemon he raised his sword for the final blow but Amell had used a paralyze spell to stop him and had charged the demon herself. The letter she left for Leliana had told her that she had already dreamt of her death even before Riorden had told them of the grey warden's true purpose and she had sadly accepted her fate, her only regret was the short time they were together. The bard remembered all the times the mage had woken screaming from her nightmares and all the times she had cried as Leliana spoke of their future lying that her tears were in happiness. The warden had known all the time and yet she had let Leliana unknowingly place her heart in a doomed relationship. Her death left her changed, angry and hardened. She realised that her anger towards her friends was misplaced, the one she hated was Amell.

Alistair held the bard closely and Leliana felt her resolve slip away as they cried together. He had loved Amell as a sister blaming himself for her death and their mutual grief had given the bard some comfort for a while. But her sadness was keen and her anger was arduous so she retreated to the only other place she had ever found peace, happy to find that the Reverand Mother could use her abilities and pleased that her mind could be kept busy. She hadn't sung since that night, the joy and music had left her.

_Was the request for the ballard a coincidence or did he know her true identity_?

Maybe she was more renowned then she gave herself credit for. She successfully concealed her surprise at the Dwarf's request and gave him her sweetest smile. "I'm afraid my voice is not at its best tonight and needs its rest. But I do know a tale that involves the Hero of Ferrelden. Do you know the saga of the Paragon Branka and her love the warrior Oghren?" Varric shook his head leaning forward with interest. Satisfied she had distracted his attention she began her narrative. "My story begins in the Dwarfen city of Orzammar dug deep into the Frostback mountains..."

* * *

><p>AN - I know, I know it's not great and it hasn't been Beta'd, it's not very original but I hope it was at least entertaining.<p>

It's got another chapter to go yet with a bit more Leliana, Hawke interactions when I hope Leliana's actions become a bit more clear. I haven't got a Beta reader, there's too many to choose from, you're all too good, but if any of you would like to offer your services I would be eternally graeful. I think I need a Beta reader whose great with grammer and can give me some tips on improving the story.

Anyway, I haven't read any Dragon age Fanfic for a while so I'm sorry if I'm unintentionally plagarising anyone. I noticed the other day that there is a similar Fanfic Hawke/Amell x Morrigan story by Prudance Chastity called "Shapshifter" but I haven't read it as I'm a bit worried I may plagarise (hey I'm a lazy scientist I'm used to standing on the shoulder's of giants).

I would love some reviews and constructive criticisms. I'm still treating this chapter as a draft so I'm open to any suggestions for improvements. Also should Bard, Warden, Mage, Tempar have a captial letter or not? I'm really not sure.

Big thanks to thatgirlwiththe, she knows why. Read her story "Sharp little pinpricks" and bug her to finish it. I think it's the best Fanfic depiction on Isabella I've read so far, plus I admit (with a grumble) it's a much better tale about grief than mine.

Toodles xxx


	2. Chapter 2

Leliana watched Hawke fight from the shadows on the throne room. It was a magnificent and exhilarating. Her careful plans to draw out the revolutionists had led to this moment and she was not surprised to see that Hawke was the jaw to her trap. Her conscious was telling her to bring aid to the apostate but she found herself unable to move; stopped by her apprehension at meeting the mage for the first time. Although this was not the first time they had seen each other.

Leliana had been in the marketplace in Lowtown buying some food for her supper when she first saw her. The living ghost that walked towards her in the busy market place, her movements so smooth and confident she almost floated through the crowds such a beautiful foreboding spectre. The shock made Leliana's heart stop. _Was she dead? Had Amell come for her as she always threatened in Leliana's nightmares? _

'_Finally,'_ she felt such blissful relief from her imminent demise. '_No more waiting. No more loneliness_.' She dropped to her knees to await her sentence crying happily.

She looked up and smiled through her tears as Amell drew nearer. Their eyes locked and everything around them seemed to slow as they looked at each other, the crowd slowly disappeared until it was just the two lovers holding each other's gaze. But unlike Leliana's, the mage's blue eyes held no recognition, just curiosity at the woman sitting on the floor in the middle of the street. This shook Leliana and the bard awoke. Leliana quickly got to her feet and disappeared into the crowd before the mage could reach her.

It was strange to be haunted by the living. The first time she had seen Amell in Hawke it had scared and disturbed her, not because of the ghost but because in that brief moment she had welcomed death so easily. She had thought that she had triumphed over her grief and desperate despair but here it was again as harsh and unforgiving as it had been the first time. She had been terrified at first but on reflection she found herself curious about Amell's double and hungered again for that brief moment of illusion when she though Hawke was Amell. So she did what anyone in her position would do, she began to follow the mage obsessively all over Kirkwall and the free marshes; comparing warden with champion and eagerly relishing the memories the differences and similarities between them evoked.

Leliana's mission and Hawke's dealings in Kirkwall had finally led to this moment in the Chantry. She had been following the champion for so many days that she almost felt she knew the champion intimately but the realisation that soon they would speak for the first time made Leliana feel slightly nervous. She should have helped the champion with the battle but choose to keep to the calm shadows instead.

Watching the apostate's battle in the Chantry brought back fond memories of fighting beside her lover and she savoured them excitedly. She had seen the Ferelden fight numerous times and had always wondered at the cold rage that swam in her eyes as she rained down her fury on their attackers. It was a stark contrast to the bard's lover; Amell had always fought with a malevolent delight and would laugh as she cut down her enemies, enjoying the freedom of being able to weave her spells without Templar's swords poised ready at her back. Fighting beside Amell had always felt like sport, like a game and Leliana would join her laughter while singing her battle songs and competing for points. In contrast Hawke was stern and resolute when she fought and a smile only graced her features when her victory was assured. But then unlike Amell, Hawke knew the cost of battle. The only person Amell knew who had died was Duncan and that was soon after she met him.

'_If Hawke had attended the circle would Duncan have favoured Hawke over Amell?'_ Both were powerful elemental mages and in battle and the apostate was the equal of the warden. Although Bard had to admit that the Champion moved more agilely across the battle field and her close combat was much more effective than the warden's. She smiled knowing that circle mage would have scoffed at the apostate's spins and flourishes branding them time-wasting nonsense, but the rogue could see their advantage they distracted the enemy and allowed her allies time to watch where she cast the spells they could manipulate. She watched as Hawke commanded the flow of the battle with great skill shouting encouragement and instructions to her allies as they obeyed their leader without question.

'_If Duncan had taken Hawke not Amell she would still be alive and Hawke would be dead. But then I would have never have met Amell. Would I have loved Hawke if she had been the Grey Warden?'_ She frowned at the difficult thought. Her thoughts were constantly filled with foolish 'ifs' and 'buts', as if wishing would change anything.

Her musings in the darkness of the Chantry were suddenly interrupted by two revolutionists who ran past her to ambush the recent victors. Her eyes narrowed as she felt a protective rage boil in her stomach. Fearful for the Champion she silently slipped behind them and executed the oblivious terrorists before they could raise their weapons.

Her battle rage made her momentarily forget her situation. She looked up and their eyes finally met with recognition. The sight made her throat dry and her heart fluttered nervously under the apostate's inquisitive stare. She began to feel uneasy, shifting under those eyes and she suddenly regretted having intervened and revealed herself. She swallowed to wet her throat and took a deep breath to prepare herself. She still had a mission to complete. Forcing her indifferent mask back into place she breathed deeply and forced her legs to move approaching the mage and her friends.

Being so close to the Champion she took the opportunity to examine her barely listening and responding to the aspostate's questions. The resemblance to the grey warden was remarkable. The Champion's cheekbones were higher, the nose was slightly larger and a scar tarnished the skin above her eyebrow but these differences were slight and barely noticeable, under the right conditions. Her lips, the shape of her jaw and her hair colour were identical to the warden's. Even her voice was similar, she repressed a shudder at the gentle tone.

She was transfixed by Hawke's large blue eyes so compassionate and sad. Not like the Hero's green confident gaze. Her lover's face appeared so vividly in her mind that she closed her eyes taking pleasure in the memory and imagining it was Amell that was speaking to her.

"The Leliana who accompanied the hero of Ferrelden..."

The mention of Amell shook the bard from her daydream. It was so strange to have the apostate speak of her double and she frowned pained by the broken fantasy. She felt that invisible hard grip back around her neck. Unable to contain her composure any longer she blurting some inadequate words about her heart and quickly fled, asking Hawke to warn the Grand Cleric of the rising revolution.

Outside the keep she ran to the nearest alley and leant her forehead against the cold wall trying to cool her burning face. Her investigation was over and it was her duty to return to Orlais as soon as possible but leaving Kirkwall would mean that the memories the Champion had inspired would begin to dwindle and fade. She cried out in anguish.

At night she had begun to dream of Amell again hearing her voice and feeling her warm arms embracing her in the darkness. The closer she got to the apostate the more lucid her dreams were. Sometimes when she awoke she could still feel the pressure of Amell's arms on her skin and she relished the few seconds of delirium before reality came crashing down upon her. But as her time began to run out in Kirkwall her dreams had turned to nightmares. A spoiled memory she had tried to forget plagued her rest.

_A thin pillar of light erupted from the tower piercing the dark clouds above._

_She began to run. She ignored the shouts of victories and ran through Denerim as it burned, jumping over dead bodies and ignoring the harrowing cries of the injured and dying. Reaching Fort Drakon she stopped only for a moment and disregarding the burning sensation in her lungs started sprinting up the stairs. She finally stumbled through the roof entrance and bent over with her hands on her knees taking large gulping breaths to stop the stars that blinded her sight her muscles twitched with exhaustion. As her vision cleared and her dizziness dissipated she stood upright slowly looking around the ruin for her friends. She saw the small group huddled in the corner of the roof. Glad to see them alive she smiled with relief as she walked towards them calling a friendly greeting. _

_They turned their anguished faces towards her making her stop in confusion. She searched among them, Zeveran looked sadly away, Wynne face was wet with tears and Alistair covered his face. Distressed she looked around the roof expecting a joyful victorious Amell to walk into view at any second, but the moment didn't happen and she couldn't find her. _

_She remembered their quick movements to stop her. How their arms pulled her away from it as she screamed, yelled and kicked in protest. But this was a dream, another spoiled memory and when she looked up they were gone and dark bundle she knew they were shielding was lying alone on the roof. She knew what it was. _

'_This wasn't what happened. Don't look. Wake up. Wake up,' her mind screamed. The roof seemed to move beneath her bringing it towards her. She looked down and realised that her feet were bringing her closer and she could not stop them until she stood above it. _

'_Don't touch it. Don't look,' her mind screamed again. She had revisited this moment so many times in her sleep. She hoped she was too terrified to move but her guilt forced her motions, it was her punishment after all; her punishment for not saving her. _

_The body laid motionless on her front, her face looked away from the bard and her right arm and left leg were twisted into unnatural positions. Leliana knelt beside her and tentatively reached out to touch the warden's shoulder shaking her gently and tenderly pulled some of the blonde hair that covered her face as she called out to her. Getting no response from Amell she whimpered quietly and hesitantly turned the mage her onto her back to look at her lover's face. Her face all bloody and bruised forever contorted in pain and between the hair that spread across her face two lifeless blue eyes looked back at her. _

Leliana would wake abruptly at the vision covered in sweat and tears streaming from her eyes. The nightmare would leave her shaking and sobbing with grief.

Night no longer held the reprieve that it once did and she began to avoid her sleep. Her only source of happiness was watching Hawke, comparing the champion with the hero and she had started to watch Hawke day and night aggressively stalking the champion. When she was not on her mission she followed Hawke everywhere even to her home; studying the mage through the barriers of her windows as she ate her food, read her books and answered her letters, watching intently for any mannerisms that seemed familiar.

Leliana hated it when Hawke would finally retire to bed and couldn't follow; telling herself it was because such an intrusion into her privacy would be improper but she knew in her heart it was only because the bedroom window was out of reach. She had a great desire to see how the woman slept craving those intimate memories it would obviously inspire. Did she sleep on her back or her front? Was her mouth slightly open or closed? She wondered if she worried in her sleep just like Amell had, mumbling incoherent words and frowning with thought. If she did would Leliana's touch be soothing as she smoothed her brow? She loved the calming power she had over Amell; just a touch or word was enough, it demonstrated the trust and understanding that had grown between them in the short time they had known each other. Leliana was Amell's trusted confidant for her fears, doubts and desires and Amell was hers, but all that had died with her.

She turned her back to the wall of the alleyway and slid down to sit on the dirty ground holding her head in her hands. Her heart ached with misery at the prospect of leaving Hawke and losing Amell over again. If she left, she died and Leliana wasn't sure she could cope with the renewed grief it would bring.

She narrowed her eyes defiantly, "No", she shouted aloud. Losing the Hero the first time had been out of her control, the maker and Amell had made sure of that. She refused to let Amell go again so easily.

Then she remembered Hawke's eyes relaying her sympathy and compassion and she felt its pull like a lifeline.

'_What if I could spend one more night with Amell?'_

Hawke had helped her stirred so many memories of Amell but none of their most intimate moments and these were the treasured memories Leliana truly desired. To steal time back with Amell was an exhilarating prospect. '_One more night with her, surely it would ease my grief for a while?'_ She was sure it would. It had to. She wiped the tears from her eyes and forced herself to her feet. With renewed vigour she strode back to her rented room a plan already formulating in her mind.

* * *

><p>Leliana paced her small rented room and remembered her training under Marjoiline.<p>

'_Know your mark's desires and you can bend them to your will without even lifting your blade. That is the true skill of a bard assassin. _'

Leliana's current objective was simple; seduce Hawke so she could sleep with Amell. A common misconception regarding bards is that they are femme fatales who use sex tactically in order to gain the trust of their targets. Sex was certainly an easy method to cloud the judgement of their marks but most bards only used it when they were also willing partners. Bards were certainly seductresses but seduction is not always about sex, it's about the promise of fulfilling a desire.

'_What did Hawke want?'_

She had seen Hawke reject plenty of offers from pretty and handsome admirers so simply offering herself to the Champion, even as beautiful as she was, would prove entirely futile. At least she was open to sleeping with women, the pirate proved that much. Leliana had seen how awkward it was between the pirate and the champion; they always stood at least two feet apart when they spoke; one blushing with their hands behind their back as they talked, the other looking bored, examining her fingernails or crossing her arms looking anywhere but at the mage. It was almost painful to watch how their interactions left the champion especially distant and sad.

Hawke's desire was obvious to everyone. She was lonely and wanted to be loved, not the platonic love of friends but passionate romantic love that Isabela was unwilling to give to her.

'_I want to sleep with my love and Hawke wants to be loved. How can I use this to my advantage?'_

Leliana wanted to be with Amell not the champion. Hawke was just her sick muse; a tool for her imaginings.

As a child her mother had warned her about her overactive imagination. "Such twitter my little Nightingale," she would say in response to another of Leliana's tall tales, shaking her head in mock disapproval and trying not to smile. She loved to entertain her mother with stories and she knew her mother loved it too and so Leliana would learn all the stories and ballads she could from the Chantry sisters. "Tell me a tale my little Nightingale," she would say when the nights were long and dull. "Qui, qui une histoire Leliana," the other servants would shout and Leliana's face would blush as they lifted her onto the kitchen table. Her mother's face looked up at her daughter her face glowing with pride and Leliana would make it her mission to amuse her.

But stories can deceive as well as entertain. As a small fatherless child she was the subject of taunts and ridicule not just from the children but the adults as well. Reality was cruel to Leliana so she submersed herself in a beautiful fantasy; where her father and mother were married and she had friends that were protective and strong. When Leliana was forced from her happy dreams she defended herself with lies. She'd pit them against each other with a face of innocence telling them deceitful stories with 'he said that' and 'she did this'. When they realised they had been tricked they labelled her a 'bastard trickster' and a 'liar'. She would cry and yell as her mother chastised and punished her.

"It was only a game. It's not my fault they're so stupid."

But she underestimated her ability to pull people into her fiction and it was not until her mother died and she met Marjoiline that she realised her power as a storyteller. Marjoiline encouraged her ability to create and participate in a fantasy and she found that with careful planning she could manipulate almost any target she was given. Leliana enjoyed deceiving them, feeling so powerful and far away from the weak, pathetic, friendless child she had been. Her favourite missions were when the target gave the required information willingly almost begging her to take it from them. She'd take it and she'd leave them behind laughing with devious delight as their illusion broke and shattered around them.

Leliana's gift was creating fantasies so perhaps she could share one with Hawke. Hawke wanted to be loved and Leliana wanted Amell. If Leliana could believe that the champion was Amell then she could share the love between the bard and warden with the champion.

'_How can I help myself to imagine Amell was with me?'_ She frowned with thought. The room where the meeting took place would have to be dark; dark enough to hide Hawke but light enough to see Amell. She wanted Amell so much and speaking to Hawke had proved how easily she could slip into a dream even in broad daylight. She shivered with anticipation, what memories she would find when the darkness softened the truth.

'_How can I make Hawke agree to sleep with me?'_ She had followed Hawke enough to see that it would not be an easy task. She was moral and unyielding in her ethics; definitely not the type of person to sleep with a stranger. She would have to keep the mage off-balanced and unsure. Leliana would enter her house unseen and surprise the mage in her very sanctuary to rock her composure. Entry into the estate unobserved would be much more straightforward at night and in Leliana's experience it was always easier to seduce people at night. Darkness seems to dull and muddle the values of even the most stoic targets making them more agreeable to satisfying their fantasies.

There was a danger that Hawke could attack Leliana on sight. It was unlikely but not impossible. She had never witnessed the mage strike the first blow during fights but had seen how dangerous the woman could be if provoked or backed into a corner. Leliana had to ensure that the mage was weakened when she entered her bedroom. On the day of their encounter she would anonymously tip the Guard about a dangerous gang she had discovered in Lowtown during her investigation. The Guard Captain always used Hawke and her companions for such tasks. The fight would wear out the mage, this would lower her mana but also slow her thought processes making her much more compliable to bard's insistent wishes. This meant the she should also try to stop the diplomatic champion from speaking; let her talk and she will have time to think, let her think and she will have time to negotiate her retreat.

Leliana paced her small rented room and remembered her training under Marjoiline. An intricate plan spread like a map in her mind; a series of possible actions, reactions and their countermeasures. She knew her mark well so the number of paths could be limited but no matter the number of roads and side streets they all led to a single fixed destination.

* * *

><p>Author notes:<p>

Hope you liked it.

This is still a draft so I'm always open to suggestions for improvements. I'm not as happy with this chapter and I'm not really sure about the nightmare scene. I think it slows down the story so I may remove it. I also think some parts should be expanded upon. As always I'm on a look out for a Beta so if anyone would like to step up to the challenge I'd be very grateful.

A big big thank you to the reviewers for chapter one, you made my day and I am planning on improving chapter one with your suggestions when I get a chance. Thank you to Pertinax who pointed out that Leliana's mission was set by The Divine not the Reverand Mother. I also found out that The Great Dane has a similar story where the Warden and Hawke are identical but the warden is still alive, I'm looking forward to reading the happy tale when I have finished this darn angsty one.

This story has one more chapter to go. I originally wanted it to be only two chapters but I'm having real problems with the final scene back in Hawke's bedroom so I thought I would post these scenes so I stop fiddling with them. I'm afraid it's only going to get more and more angsty; I'm not sure where it comes from, I'm typically such a happy person!

Anyway, have a great and happy Christmas y'all,

Toodles xxx


	3. Chapter 3

I am so sorry for how long it has taken me to update this story. I was really unsure of how I should finish it and then life and Mass Effect 3 got in the way. But then luckily I had a huge argument with my Girlfriend which sent me into a bit of an angry writing frenzy, so you can blame/ thank her for this angsty chapter.

For the final chapter we're back in Hawke's bedroom with Leliana and there will be **Dragon Age origins **and** Dragon Age 2 spoilers.**

Hope you like it and let me know what you think.

* * *

><p>Amell stepped away and left her with Hawke. But Leliana could still feel her there in the room with them, present in the shadows just at the edge of her vision, waiting and watchful. Leliana realised that ever since she had died Amell had always been there even when she had tried to avoid her Amell was a persistent blur lingering in her perception, a dim actuality to which Hawke had given definition and credence only to retract and veil the warden with a shake of her head. Amell had been patient long enough, they both had, and Leliana adamantly refused to let the Champion stand between them.<p>

This mage was looking at Leliana with an expression, one she had seen a too many times on the faces of friends and strangers, all sympathy and condescension as they tried to think of words they considered thoughtful and profound. Tired words she knew by heart and gave her no sense of relief just exasperation. Her body stiffened as the mage dared to place a hand on her shoulder and infuriating Leliana. Leliana wanted to scream and yell as she felt a sudden rush of rage ripple through her body. She wanted to lash out and slap away the pity she wanted to rip the layers away to find where the Champion was hiding her.

But the bard persevered and outwardly Leliana schooled her features remaining calm and composed. Detaching herself from her surroundings was how her mind had protected Leliana, as child when she was bullied and as an adult when she had to work a target because she didn't feel threatened or guilty if she was not there to experience it. For most bards it took years to able to master erecting those imaginary barriers to cut off your emotions before they could influence their actions but Leliana was a natural fantasist and it was why Marjioline had valued her for a time. She battled her feelings silently as she tried to order her mind and remember her goal. She was not a novice, her plans were careful and meticulous and she had calculated this possible eventually. She still had the plan and she clung to it desperately.

Marjolaine's voice directed her once again.

_"Your beauty evokes such an impression of innocent I'd wager you could convince the maker that your soul was pure while he held a record of your sins." _

Sympathy from the Champion was irritating in its hypocrisy but Leliana endeavoured to remember that it was an advantage which played directly into her skills of portraying a facade of weakness and virtue. She had seen the Champion bend over backwards to help the citizens of Kirkwall as long as the story was pitiful enough and what could be more heartbreaking and emphatic than a woman who had helped save the world but in doing so lost the love of her life. If she acted the wounded party Leliana was confident that the benevolent Champion would default to her character type unable to resist playing her part in this performance and the familiarity of the supplicant-Champion dynamic would help to keep the formidable woman tranquil and obedient.

There was little advantage in pretending that she desired the Champion and it was not that the words that followed were untrue but she could not let them associate with her actual emotions. If she allowed herself to feel them too soon would surely lead to mistakes so she kept the reigns tightly bound around them and let the bard perform.

She grabbed hold of the Mage's dress as if in desperation and pleaded in a whisper making sure to make her voice break just a little at the end as she said, "Help me Champion. Please, help me." For a moment she considered dropping to her knees and begging but quickly surmised that it would have been too dramatic for the Champion's tastes.

"I don't expect anything from you beyond tonight I just...I just want to remember her one last time."

Leliana watched the mage's body language intently trying to decide how to proceed_, _the Champion looked a little startled and embarrassed but she had not tried to increase the distance between them. Leliana took this as a positive sign. The mage did not object this time as Leliana raised the mage's hand to her cheek discreetly holding onto the mage's wrist measuring her heart rate.

Letting a few tears fall for good measure and holding her prey in her seemingly earnest stare she made her offer, "in return I promise I will embrace you as if I loved you, and you...you can imagine I am whoever you want me to be. I don't mind I want you to feel comfort too."

The mage gasped and outwardly seemed shocked by the proposal. She actually had the audacity to look shameful but her body had already betrayed her – how the Champion's water-filled eyes dilated and her pulse increased just slightly against the bard's fingertips. The mage began to cry and raised her hand to rub nervously against the forehead (a classic sign of guilt) before dropping her fingers lightly rub the area above her heart. _You want this, don't feel guilty. _The bard masked her feelings of victory and exultant at her insight into the woman's desires with a small sad smile that she let grace her features as she pushed the subject.

"My ship leaves in the morning and you have my word that I will tell no-one of what happens here." Leliana continued strengthened by the renewed longing that fleetingly glistened over Hawke's features she knew she had won when her hand dropped from her chest back to her side. C_ontact encourages trust_. Pulling the mage's hand to her mouth and ghosting her lips over the mage's palm she didn't grin when Hawke's breath hitched in her throat and noted the way the mage's eyes began to fill with more tears, the bard moved the mage's back onto her cheek stroking the knuckles soothingly with her thumb. "Why should we feel guilty for wanting to comfort each other?"

The Orlesian finished her entreaty and keeping hold of the Champion's hand and her eyes on the apostate she boldly stepped back towards the bed. The bard had always relished these instances during her work when the target's resolve finally broke. That split second when all her hard work and planning had proved successful and she thought that she had seen the mage's submission but in her haste she momentarily forgot to consider who she was dealing with. The Ferrelden hesitated as their arms stretched and her pause made Leliana's heart suddenly drop with fear. The miserable Champion regarded her thoughtfully for a moment exploring the bard's features. What she looked for Leliana could only surmise as the mage's expression was unreadable and the uncertainty and delay began to unnerve the bard. Leliana pulled gently on their linked arms unwilling to give the woman any time to think and it broke the Champion from her contemplations and her tear-full eyes locked with Leliana she sadly nodded her consent letting Leliana lead her closer to the bed.

At the bedside Leliana silently undressed herself before the Champion moving swiftly before the other woman could change her mind; buckles, ties and clasps quickly removed and discarded. The shy Champion tried to follow the bard's example but more apprehensively and by the time the bard was naked the mage had only managed to reach down and remove her leather shoes. Leliana wanted to curse at the mage's coy behaviour as her reluctance to submit was only delaying the inevitable but she held her tongue, she had not come this far to ruin her approach and turn the mage on the offensive.

Leliana nibbled her finger nails as she became more frustrated at the pace of this slow resurrection. The mage avoided eye contact with the bard as she hesitantly moved her hand behind her back to release the dress and Leliana found that she could not stand idle any longer. She stepped behind the mage and began to release the lacing that ran up the back of the dress forcing her hands to move at a slower pace than she wanted them too. She removed the lace from its final eye and pushed the unfamiliar mage armour from the woman's shoulders letting it drop to the floor and the slip underneath quickly followed over the woman's head and onto the bedroom floor.

Once naked the mage immediately wrapped her arms around herself and her shoulders seemed to hunch defensively as she attempted to cover herself. From what Leliana could see as she stood behind her, the woman had nothing to be ashamed about. Leliana's eyes ran up the slender figure appraisingly, she was slightly taller and thinner than the warden but her skin looked just as soft and pale as her Ferrelden but unlike her Amell her skin was not unblemished, a deep scar resided on the mage's right shoulder an exit wound of a large sharp weapon. Frowning she moved back to the front of the mage.

The Champion of Kirkwall looked so utterly defeated, with her right arm covering her chest while she nervously bit the fingernails of her left that it worried Leliana's defences and a small pang of guilt eased its way into her conscious. Unwilling to see anything beyond the resemblances Leliana angrily denied the emotion, if the Champion would just do as she was directed they could just get past this difficult stage and Leliana wouldn't need to feel any remorse. Leliana grabbed the Champion's hands and pulled her arms open to reveal what she was hiding holding onto the woman's hands tightly as the mage tried to shrink away from the bard's inspection. As she suspected a deep red scar left marred the mage's skin where the weapon had entered her shoulder but that was not her only battle scar her entire upper body was marked by old battles. _These may be difficult to ignore_ _Amell's skin had been flawless. Why hadn't the mage healed them_? Leliana frowned worriedly perhaps she would have to put out the fire but if she could have been content with complete darkness then she could have seduced anyone of Amell's stature.

The mage must have misconstrued the bard's expression for empathetic concern it was the only explanation for the Champion interrupting the bard's thoughts and breaking what she thought was an unspoken agreement for silence. "They...are..," aggravated Leliana's eyes snapped to the Ferrelden's but she allowed the blushing mage finish her quiet explanation, "they are my...memories." And in doing so the Champion gave Leliana exactly want she wanted a memory of Amell that she had successfully forgotten.

_"Amell?" Leliana croaked tiredly as her unconscious mind felt another warm sensation trailing over her stomach. After a few failed attempts she managed to open her heavy eyes only to shield them against the light of a lamp. The shadow of someone leaned over her body and she rubbed her tired eyes quickly encouraging them to adjust. After a few seconds the blur cleared to reveal, as she had suspected, the sight of her embarrassed lover leaning over her stomach a blanket wrapped over her shoulders. _

_Leliana frowned with concern, "Another nightmare?" she asked aloud. Amell answered with a shrug and cast her tired red eyes back down to the bard's exposed skin and it was enough for Leliana to know that she hadn't even slept yet, she always trying to avoid her dreams. Leliana grabbed the hand poised above her stomach running a consoling thumb across Amell's knuckles. Her fingertips on the warden's palm were warmed by a residual heat, too hot to be natural on such a cool night, and Leliana's concern diminished as she was reminded why she was awake in the first place. "What are you doing?" She questioned pushing herself up onto her elbows to look down at her own body. _

_She watched as Amell's hand returned to its original position and a deep green glow shone from her palm illuminating and heating the areas of Leliana's skin it touched. "I'm sorry for waking you I wanted it to be a surprise... just a bit longer...and there," she said with satisfied smile motioning to the bard's belly. Leliana followed the warden's gaze and gasped in astonishment. _

_Leliana was not vain. She acknowledged that she was beautiful but to her it was just a fact. It wasn't earned, it wasn't self praise it was a detail, an advantage for a bard but in her experience beauty did not mean attractiveness and attractiveness was not always the result of beauty. No, to Leliana beauty was a very small aspect of her charm. So it was not with an egotistical mind that she deliberately avoided looking at her disfigured body it was only because when she looked at them it brought back a little bit of the terror she had felt when the scars were made in that Dungeon in Denerim. _

_Leliana's body below her neck was covered in scars of all different shapes and sizes each of them a constant reminder of her torture by Raleigh and his friends. Memories of how he took great delight marring her 'pretty skin', counting the cuts and injuries on her body before choosing where to place the new ones, finding such entertainment in disfiguring her that they even brought her a healer but not to mend her mutilations. They kept her close to death for days and by the time she managed to escape and reunite with Sketch, she found brave Tug dead, and Sketch told her it was too late to heal their older wounds. Raleigh had knowingly etched his memory into her and even killing him had not erased the pain she felt when she looked at them. _

_But as she looked down at her body now in the protection of her shared tent with Amell Leliana was amazed to find in between all the angry red marks an area of perfect unblemished skin. _

_"How did you do that? Why?" _

_Amell's leaned over Leliana's body her blonde hair falling down to hide her features as she traced her fingers over Leliana's stomach sending shivers straight down the bard's spine overpowering her uncertainty. "Sketch was right it is more difficult to heal old scars than new ones, it is as if the scar tissue forgets what it was like to be skin. But it's not impossible to remind them, with the right spell of course and a bucket load of lyrium," she mumbled shyly. Leliana eyes widened and the warden turned her face to her and smiled, as if reading Leliana's thoughts she added. "Before you reprimand me I did not use the party stocks. I came into some money and this is how I wanted to use it." _

_Leliana thought it a poor explanation. The Circle does not pay its mages and to her knowledge the mage had no money of her own as she insisted that all the riches they had collected were used to buy supplies for the entire party. Leliana watched mage's fingertips silently trace the marks of her skin and noticed the white band around the mage's finger where her family ring used to sit. The realisation that Amell had sold the only thing that her parents had left her, the only thing that was her own overwhelmed Leliana with a myriad of perplexing emotions; reproach, astonishment, gratitude, love. The bard grasped the mage's hand again and rubbed her thumb over the pale white band on her finger to silently acknowledge the warden's gift as she tried to think of something to say. _

_The bard's memory was meticulous; she could diligently recite the passionate speeches from hundreds of the most romantic tales, poems and songs with such conviction and compassion that she could have brought a warlord to tears but as the warden turned her shy smile and kind green eyes towards the bard she found such words lacked substance and were feeble descriptions for all the feelings she was experiencing. The wordsmith frowned crossed by her inability to articulate her feelings and the bard's mouth opened and closed silently as words formed and pathetically failed on her tongue. Her frown deepened slightly irritated that the warden had the power to turn her, a master bard, into a stuttering tongue-tied buffoon. The silence drew out and desperate to end the awkwardness that was feeding her mounting frustration she spluttered a few incoherent sounds before snapping, "Idiote romantique," moving her hands around the surprised warden's neck to quickly pull her down for a kiss the mage smiled against her lips. _

_They broke the kiss with a shared a smile and Amell adjusted herself to lie beside the bard wrapping an arm around her and resting her head on the bard's chest just beneath her chin. Leliana sighed contentedly as she pulled the woman closer marvelling at how natural and soothing it felt to lay like this; as if their bodies were made to fit together as perfectly as an arrow nock against a bowstring. Allowing Leliana, only Leliana to hold her like this made the bard feel proud, wanted and powerful, like she could do anything she would do anything to protect the woman in her arms. No-one knew how soft and fragile she was, how Amell would collapse exhausted into bed after another long mission, anxiously over analyse every decision she had made or hiss in pain as she undressed her battle damaged body. Because as soon as she left the confines of their tent their leader's posture would straighten, her face would become calm and she'd confidently stride into her day. The others could not properly shield someone they considered invincible but Leliana appreciated that Amell needed the pretence of infallible strength for her leadership and so protecting Amell fell to Leliana it was her secret mission and for Leliana moments like these felt overwhelming because they were the only times she could be sure she was not failing. _

_Amell was everything, Leliana's present and future happiness she loved her deeply and although they had not said it to each other yet, those three words the bard converted, everything that Amell did for her all her gestures and her body language they spoke to Leliana and she listened intently. For now it was enough but secretly Leliana wished that that just once her reserved lover would tell her, that they would tell each other but she was not going to risk herself by saying it first. _

_Leliana's musings was broken by Amell moving her head slightly to nuzzle a particularly sensitive area of Leliana's neck and the bard purred with pleasure as Amell exchanged her nose for her lips lightly brushing them over her sensitised skin. Leliana unconsciously stretched her neck to give the mage more access and she inwardly chucked at how easily and quickly she submitted to the warden's ministrations surprised that she did not mind in the slightest. With Marjolaine their relationship had always felt like a battle for supremacy fighting to exposure their partner's weaknesses first, but with Amell everything was different. She trusted Amell with her vulnerability because Amell entrusted hers to Leliana and it was a beautiful. Making powerful people weak had been the bard's predilection until she found how wonderful it could be to let herself submit._

_She recalled how much faith it had took to undress in front of the warden for the first time, terrified that her hidden scars would repulse her but the mage just pulled her close and pressed her lips against each of them pushing away her concerns and strengthening the tie between them. But this was only the beginning of their intimacy - they stayed up into the night learning more about each other, sharing their likes and dislikes, anecdotes and secrets. When Leliana felt confident she told Amell stories from her life before the chantry the good and bad moments of her existence revealing herself entirely to Amell and nearly crying with relief when the warden accepted her completely and unconditionally. She trusted Amell she did, but Leliana still felt that faint nagging doubt and mistrust one of the permanent marks left by Majioline. "Do...do you they disgust you?" Leliana blurted feeling hurt that they warden could have hated anything about her. _

_Amell's head snapped up from Leliana's throat, "No," she reprimanded with disapproving eyes making Leliana shrink slightly. "I'm _s_orry. It's just that I...," she hesitated laying her head back on the bard's chest and Leliana felt the warden's hot blush against her skin and smiled as her bashful lover stumbled over her words. It was strangely satisfying being able to stupefy their commanding leader. "I love...your body," Amell continued shyly, "you know I do. It's...It's just that I see how much it distresses you to look at them." Leliana's smile fell as her jaw tightened. "I know I can't change what they did to you, but I should like to try to dim their memory." _

_Long ago Leliana had decided never to cry again about that episode in her life and the warden was currently making that promise extremely difficult to keep. The warden must have felt Leliana stiffen at her words and so moved to look at the bard and her wide scared eyes held such a worried expression that it broke Leliana's heart. "Y...You don't mind do you?" she said quickly before sighing and shaking her head "I'm so stupid. I should have asked you first, I'm sorry it was arrogant to assume..." _

_"I'm not upset," Leliana interrupted smiling faintly to reassure her concerned lover. "It's just that I think that perhaps I need them to remember how I came to be in that Dungeon." Amell shook her head in disbelief. It hurt the warden to think of Leliana as someone she would despise but Leliana was always firm feeling a strong need to tell her, warn her about the person she could be if circumstances pushed her in the wrong direction. "I was not an innocent Amell I destroyed people's lives for my own benefit and amusement. I killed people, and perhaps these scars are the marks of my sins and the maker wishes me to wear them," she finished quickly biting her lip and turning her head away embarrassed by tears that would surely encourage the warden's undeserved pity. _

_"No," the warden said firmly but with a gentleness that supported Leliana's fears. Her lips wobbled threatening and she turned her head further into her pillow avoiding eye contact with the Amell as she continued her assuring words. "Marjolaine manipulated your desire to be loved with false promises and fake declarations to make you do what she required." Leliana shook her head sadly wishing she could be so certain of her character but Amell didn't know everything. Being good was difficult being apathetic and self-serving was easy. Every time Amell returned to camp injured Leliana wanted to protect what was hers and forget the others, forget Ferelden and take her far away from danger, she had even devised several methods to do so. It made her ashamed to think such things but Ferelden could burn for all she cared as long as Amell was safe. _

_"Listen to me," Amell continued cupping her cheek to turn Leliana's eyes towards her, "you don't need scars or anyone to remind you to be good because it is who you are and...I" _

_Amell paused and her eyes became soft and loving as she gazed at the bard and Leliana felt strengthened by the lover's resolve. The silence drew out again and Leliana's breath caught in her throat as she regarded the warden's devoted expression. _

_"...I...think...I.."_

_Amell was finally about to say it Leliana thought excitedly. The bard's heart began to race with anticipation as they watched each other and the shy mage began to blush. She squeezed Amell's hand encouragingly. She was going to say it, she was sure by the mage's expression and Leliana needed to remember every detail to commit this moment to memory. She would declare herself and Leliana would say it too and it will be beautiful - this moment forever engraved into their story. Leliana held her breath with nervous excitement... _

_"I...I.." The warden paused and finally broke their eye contact with a nervous light cough. "I could always hunt Marjolaine down again and get rid of her. Would killing your partner in crime stop you from returning to your bad habits?" she quipped with an embarrassed smile._

_Leliana rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation at the mage's persistent evasion of the truth but she could wait it was only a matter of time before she managed to coerce the words from her. Leliana's frustration melted away and she laughed indulgently at Amell's playfulness as the mage pretended to think about all the different creative ways she could kill the bard's former mentor. Leliana lifted herself suddenly to playfully cuff Amell's head but Amell grabbed the offending hand as it retreated to keep her upright and grinned, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she deliberately let the blanket fall from her shoulders and smirking as Leliana stopped struggling to cast dark eyes over her lover's body. Such a move was definitely cheating._

_"No I'm being serious. As your current lover I think I'd really enjoy killing your ex. She was far too pretty for my liking and what an enormous bitc-owwwww," she yelled as Leliana came to her senses and used her free hand to flick Amell's earlobe in retaliation. Amell released Leliana to rub her injured ear grumbling that perhaps Leliana's nature was truly sadistic until Leliana pulled her close and gave the aforementioned ear one of her "magical" healing kisses. Amell's uncharacteristic girlish giggle made Leliana's heart race and she smiled happily against Amell's ear as they wrapped their arms around each other. No-one would ever know how romantic and silly the outwardly obstinate and serious warden could be. Outside of their tent she was a different person and this Amell was purely reserved for Leliana; an intimate secret that the bard protected ardently. _

_"Ok," she whispered in the mage's ear._

_"Ok?" The warden became serious leaning back to study the bard's face, "Are you sure? I don't want to force you."_

_"I don't need them anymore," _not now I have you to guide me,_ she added to herself. "I just need this one," Leliana pointed to scar just below her naval. "I will never forget my past but Marjolaine didn't realise the service she gave me when she made this. Without it I would not have joined the Chantry in Lothering and...," she hesitated shyly as she gently stroked the mage's cheek, "...I would not have met you, my inspiration, my dearest." _

_Her words were meant to be a sweet expression of her fondness for the other woman, a subtext of her true feelings so she was confused by the resulting flash of pain in the mage's eyes so brief and quickly replaced with a small smile that she was left wondering if she had imagined it. But before she could confront her lover the warden gently laid Leliana back onto their bed roll and moved down her body. She felt Amell's wet eyelashes move against her skin as she placed a kiss on Marjolaine's scar to make it her's. Amell was always so moved by the bard's vague declarations but as their eyes met Leliana could not see a woman overwhelmed by happiness._

_Secrets. Leliana had been around them long enough to feel their hiding oppression upon a person. But Amell's secret was not the one that Leliana wanted, Amell looked broken and terrified._

_"You know you wreck me." Amell's dark emerald eyes narrowed intently. The mage's mouth opened to say something then shut firmly with a gasp and a pained expression as she seemed to be experiencing an internal struggle. Her arms began to tremble as she loomed above the bard her hands clutching and pulling at their bed sheets as she tried to steady herself. "You ruin me wonderfully and I wish... I wish I could forget myself," she gasped as her voice began to break her tears began to trail down her face, "I want to. Please...please believe me I want too but the nightmares," she said shaking her head and letting loose a single loud sob. _

_"Amell?" Leliana questioned quietly astonished by the warden's erratic behaviour. She had been witness to the warden's insecurity and anxiety before but she had never seen the warden so wild and unstable. Leliana lifted her hand and gently stroked Amell's cheek to try to calm her but Amell brushed her hand away leaning forward suddenly to crash their lips together silencing Leliana's questions with a kiss so desperate and passionate that the bard could do nothing but yield. The warden tightened her hold around her pulling her impossibly closer against her and she moaned against Amell's mouth as she felt how their bodies moulded together perfectly. Leliana tried to gather the will to stop the warden and speak and question knowing that this brief lapse in the warden's steadfast facade would be forgotten in daylight, but her practiced touch began to cloud Leliana's mind until nothing around her made sense except Amell's loving caresses and hazy frantic whispers against her skin._

_"I want to forget myself. Oh Maker I want too..."_

The remaining scar on her belly burned with the memory or was it a dream. She couldn't be sure. What could she call it? All she had was her present circumstances. She couldn't rely on memories they were tricky, slippery and prone to dishonesty. She was a natural fantasist with a mind so intricately imaginative that sometimes the line between reality and fancy blurred and distorted. She was sure it had happened it was lucid in places and she had the evidence of her healed skin but perhaps those moments of sentimentality and affection that had felt so ethereal, almost too perfect, had been Leliana's desires scratched into a recollection as her fragile mind protected her from the truth. And that was the crux of it, why she was really here in this bedroom trying to seduce a stranger because she needed answers from the dead.

All Leiana had ever wanted was to be loved, to her it was the very epitome of her existence but her life had been full of disappointment; Marjolaine's love had been a lie, the maker's had been unfulfilling and Amell's, if it had even existed, had been unspoken. Leliana had a desperate selfish desire to grieve for a lover but Amell never told her, what use were actions and words on paper. Leliana only had was her present circumstances to refer too and she was alone and in doubt - how could Amell have loved her and not told her that she loved her, that she was going to sacrifice herself? Was it a memory or a fantasy? Leliana couldn't be sure. Amell had left her dejected and she would never be certain again.

Leliana covered her face as she burst into tears. She felt Hawke move towards her, not wanting to appear weak in front of the Champion she bit the inside of her palms trying to stop the loud sobs that wracked her body. The bard felt exhausted and suddenly empty as her anger was replaced by self pity and did nothing to stop Hawke as she pulled the bard's right hand from her face. The last thing she wanted was to be consoled by the mage but she couldn't stop herself from crying and her uncontained sobs became louder has she covered her eyes with her remaining hand.

"Here, let me help you." Hawke said gently as she intertwined their fingers so Leliana's hand covered the back of her hand. Leliana moved her left hand from her eyes curious that the mage was not soothing her or ordering her from the room. She watched as the now confident mage brought their joined hands up to her eyebrow. The white light from Hawke's hand lit the scar and after a moment they moved their hands away and Leliana was astonished to see that the scar had disappeared. Leliana was bewildered as it why Hawke was helping her and could only watch in silence as they slowly moved their joined hands over her body wiping the marks from her skin.

"This may take some time, I'm afraid I'm quite exhausted," Hawke apologised with a sad smile but Leliana didn't mind at all. In a mesmerised daze Leliana brought her hand up brush over Hawke's skin. She expected the powerful Champion to be hard like marble and she was immovable and passive as Leliana traced her fingers across her body. Her skin was soft and cool from the room temperature but slightly moist from the exercise of magic she was wielding, like clay. Some men believed that men were made of clay and she thought that the notion was fitting for the mage who chose to wear the experiences that shaped her. Leliana could still feel those dented areas of imperfection under the temporary disguise and perhaps if she pushed hard enough she could leave her fingerprints behind - proof that she existed.

Leliana looked back up at the mage and realised that Hawke had been speaking to her about grief and lost and all those sympathetic words she had dreaded. She frowned as she tried to concentrate on what the woman was saying.

"...your anger is beautiful but treacherous. You cannot hide behind it forever..."

The small residual bit of anger flared in the bard assassin she was sick of people telling her how she should mourn how could they ever understand what she was experiencing. "What would you know about it?" Leliana snapped spitefully before she could stop herself temporarily forgetting who she was speaking with.

Hawke's hollow astonished laugh filled the silence as she quickly released Leliana's hands. Leliana squeezed her eyes shut regretfully for her outburst and began to stumble over an apology but Hawke held her hand up to silence her.

"What would I know? About grief or about anger?" she stated sternly, raising an eyebrow reproachfully at the ashamed bard who shifted uncomfortably under the Champion's reprimanding glare. "Who do I have to blame for my loss but myself. Who can I hate...," she stopped suddenly her lips quivered threatening tears and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. She opened them again after a long calming breath and her eyes were regretful and soft.

"I suppose I could enter some long monologue on grief full of clichés and what I feel are well informed words of wisdom but I can see you are not ready yet to listen and not even I have a right to tell you how you should grieve. But I will say this and I want you to listen to me very carefully. I am very sorry for your loss," she said gently. "I have been told that I resemble my cousin greatly and meeting me must have been very distressing for you," she acknowledged ducking her head slightly. Leliana nodded miserably wiping the tears from her and when Leliana removed her hand she found that Hawke was silently crying as well.

Her tears finally aroused Leliana's compassion and she took back Hawke's hand and holding it soothingly. "I am very sorry for your sister and mother. They were very kind to me." Leliana too late she realised she had exposed herself but Hawke did not look surprised by the revelation. Leliana's investigation must have not been as secretive as she had hoped or perhaps Hawke had just correctly deduced that the bard's approach had to be based upon detailed knowledge of Hawke's private life. Hawke just look relieved by her honesty and she breathed out shakily as she thanked the bard.

When Leliana had begun this enterprise she had made an unconscious decision to harden herself to the Champion's grief, it was necessary for her to work skilfully under the conditions but in her apathy she had almost lost a chance to experience compassion from someone she thought worthy of giving her the kindness she had truly desired. Recognising grief in another, showing compassion and allowing its return brought Leliana more relief and contentment than she had felt in years and Hawke must had felt it too as they smiled at each other in solidarity.

Leliana sighed shakily as Hawke used the thumb of her free hand to wipe a tear from Lelaian's cheek. "You must have loved each other greatly to risk yourself in coming here to be with her," the mage said respectfully, with an awed envy of their love that made Leliana's throat tighten guiltily. It wasn't just for nostalgia she had been here to test a theory with limited evidence.

"I know you do not believe me but I do understand and that is why I want to help you to remember her Leliana," she said watching her closely. The bard frowned she had become so engrossed in their conversation that she had completely forgotten her initial objective.

She was dumbfounded as the Champion's demeanour suddenly changed; Hawke raised her posture, her face became impassive and her voice took on a more familiar formal tone. "I accept your proposition but let us re-state our terms before we proceed," she said briskly. Leliana was surprised and distrusted the quick transformation from warm and emotional to cold and withdrawn. She may have been speaking with resolution but the bard was an expert actress and saw straight through her facade. Leliana had learned a great deal about the mage and Hawke was switching character using her well practised role as the Champion in an attempt to mask her uncertainty and fake tenacity but Leliana could see that the mage's underlying discomfort as she crossed her arms around herself.

"You wish me to pretend to be her and it would not be a difficult stretch to act lovingly towards you Leliana," she said quietly her face softening for a moment as her fingertips traced the outline of the bard's jaw cupping her chin to lift the smaller woman's eyes towards her to convince the bard of her clear resolve. Leliana wanted to protest and prevent the mage from continuing but then she found that the Champion's determined eyes shone with tears and to Leliana her rebellion against her own principles gave her features an incredible familiar definition. Leliana felt her gut wrench in disappointment when she was faced with blue instead of green and she looked away ashamed that a small part of her was still unrelenting in its pursuit. It was the only reasonable explanation of why she was still standing there.

"But my motives are not entirely selfless," Hawke continued reverting back to her reserved cold business-like manner immediately releasing her grip from Leliana's cheek. "You are right in your seduction I do desire to feel what it is like to be loved," she held her hand up to prevent the guilty Leliana's confession. "I have already experienced the effect of a fake partner and I do not wish for a good performance," she tried to say offhandedly with a pretence of neutrality but Leliana's knowing heart gripped with empathy. "To feel such a love as a truth in falsehood means that you have to completely forget that I am here, to see only her with faith and without hesitation," she instructed the bard carefully. "Make me believe it, promise me that and I will place myself completely under your direction." Hawke finished releasing Leliana's hand and as she stepped back she held the bard's gaze to emphasise her conviction until she lifted her hand appearing to rub tiredly at her eyes.

Leliana felt as if she had just woken and found herself in this awkward situation, exposed, defenceless and naked. Ill at ease Leliana crossed her arms around herself her eyes darting nervously around her at anything but the naked mage before fixing her eyes on the floor. She appreciated the distance Hawke gave her to make her decision, her own scheme had been so forceful in comparison and it was a kindness she had not planned to bestow on Hawke. When she had broke down and unmasked herself she had fully expected the mage to react in disgust and anger but instead the champion was giving her exactly what she wanted even justifying and encouraging her actions but that was only because Hawke was like Leliana weary and tired of wanting.

This is exactly what Leliana had wanted and planned with methodical diligence and a small part of her still craved to fulfil itself but her plan was built upon desires and now everything was different. Amell high regard for her had been wrong here she was in her own cousin's bedroom manipulating a woman's bereavement so she could use her for her own pleasure, how easily she had slipped back to being Marjolaine's dedicated student. Hawke may now be a willing partner but that was only Leliana's manipulations had successfully persuaded her that her plan was for their mutual benefit and the only way she could find any solace. Hawke's better judgement had become clouded by anguish and one of them had to be rational, it was foolish and it would be maddening for them to get a taste something nether of them could have.

Leliana came to a decision; her first coherent and altruistic thought since she laid eyes on the mage's portrait. It was not the resolution she had expected especially after coming so close to her again but she tried to convince herself that she had to let go. Reluctantly she slowly reached down to pick her armour from the floor but was stopped by a hand on her wrist. Leliana looked up at Hawke questioningly and her eyes widened as she realised that the Champion's offer of a choice had been an empty gesture, she had never intended to let the bard leave because as Leliana looked up in that dark room and their eyes met she was immersed in green. How she knew or who moved first it wasn't really matter, all that mattered was that they were finally together and everything else fell into insignificance.

_Don't feel guilty. _

Leliana often wondered why people were so afraid of the dark when it was light that was unforgiving in its harsh reality leaving no room for ambiguity and dreams.

Kisses and touches in the shadows became forceful and desperate as both women used its protection to search the other for their allusions. As their kisses became open and lustful Leliana's world became hazy as familiarity touched her tongue, the taste of lyrium, so intricately associated with Amell's kisses it flooded her senses drowning those weak voices that spoke of her self-deceit until all she could sense was her lover and everything else fell away into temporary ignorance. The illusion complete she quickly pulled the mage towards the bed and wrapped the waiting darkness around them shrouding and nurturing their imaginations.

Their frantic pace slowed as Leliana gently laid her lover down, something told her not to rush. She wanted to take her time and show her want she meant, she wanted to show her everything she felt. Her adoring eyes swept over the woman below her, her pale form like a beacon in darkness drawing her eye and attention. She was still so achingly beautiful even in this dim lit room and not for the first time Leliana thought she could happily stare at her face rest of her life but bashful Amell was not so patient and she flipped them over pinning Leliana against the bed with a roguish smile betrayed by hesitant caring eyes that always made the Leliana's heart flutter excitedly and she giggled nervously at her lover's shy eagerness until rendered almost speechless. Leliana had taught her well as she expertly trailed over Leliana's body her eager hot breath covering Leliana in a wondrous rich heat that shook her body until wordless she could only gasp her unintelligible encouragements.

Leliana could understand the mage's desperation, she felt it too but she did not know why she felt a strong desire to rush as her mind wouldn't let her organise her thoughts and told her not to try and delve too deeply. But it was important not to rush, it was a loud consistent nagging the only coherent thought her mind allowed. Exchanging positions she slowed their caress remembering skin, with mouth and fingertips, up and down her body reverently over and over every inch of her, such softness it made Leliana's head swim and her joyous gentle moans were echoed by her lover. Amell breathed heavily as Leliana's hands stopped above Amell's heart and she could have cried at its strength and the secrets it told her. The heartbeat pounded against her fingers and she left her hand there using its rhythm to set their pace for their movements as they instinctively reached for each other.

Her mind replayed their memories, soundless but each associated with an emotion; curiosity, jealousy, desire, lust and love. Irrefutable and undeniable it surrounded them, now and in her memories, her glances, her words, her touches, her kisses, this affirmation Leliana always felt when she was with her erased her mind of doubt and encouraged her bravery. It overwhelmed her bursting through her insecurities as she finally released her emotions in declaration telling her over and over again how much she loved her. She told herself she didn't really need a response as Amell silently rose to meet her, wrapping her arm around her pushing deeper to pull her closer but then as Amell's lips tenderly moved across her neck and shoulders and she realised she was whispering I love you against her skin it was the final blissful ecstasy that pushed her falling, helplessly into white revealing light.

Leliana covered her eyes unwilling to see that she was gone. She suffered alone in anguish crying lamenting, until out of the darkness warm arms pulled her into their relief and a stranger's gentle voice spoke soothing words of comfort.


	4. Epilogue

PLEASE READ FIRST: To any followers who's read Chapter 3 this isn't an additional chapter I'm just moving this part of chapter three to an epilogue and I'm not sure how to do it without sending an alert. Apologies.

* * *

><p>Leliana quietly walked down the stairs. She felt lighter and more content than she had felt for years, in one night she had finally accepted that some of her memories of the warden would fade they would change but would never entirely vanish. Certain truths would persist forever; she would never stop loving Amell and she would always cherish the short time they had been together. Leliana touched the leather armour over her chest beneath which Amell's letter was residing and found that she was finally ready to listen to Amell's words. Beginning to cry this time she allowed the tears to fall freely and proudly because Amell deserved them.<p>

The bard walked through the hall creeping past the snoring Maibari and into the quiet kitchen. Leliana was the living memory of Amell not the champion. She blessed Hawke for reminding her of the person she was when she was with the warden; she had missed that warm and joyous person. Perhaps she would write a song about the Champion of Kirkwall, one with the happy ending.

She climbed up to the open window she had used to enter the estate and hesitated. A sudden feeling of hot dread crept over her at the thought of leaving Hawke and Amell forever. She could not leave without a memento of them, something to inspire her future happiness and guide her. Jumping down from the window she walked back into the house unsheathing one of her daggers.

* * *

><p>Hawke hummed a discordant tune as she bounced down the stairs wincing happily at the tired muscles that disclosed last night's events. She was fully aware that Leliana had used her, she had made her intent evidently clear but during her short time in Kirkwall the champion had experienced a multitude of deceptions and none had left her feeling quite so fulfilled. The bard had shown her something that the mage had been yearning for, reminding her of a personal objective that she had ignored for too many years, it was time to stop chasing after insurmountable dreams and instead look to a future with someone who would love her. Hawke was not religious but Leliana was so she silently prayed to whoever was listening that Leliana would experience such love again and that one day she herself could deserve such a good person's devotion. It hadn't happened to the champion yet but now she believed anything was possible.<p>

Happy and in the mood for mischievous she paused on the last step and jumped into the hall directly in front of her sleeping Mabari. The sudden sound of her bare feet slapping against the marble floor startled the dozy Mabari who stumbled clumsily to his feet in confusion. Feeling light-hearted she crouched low and affectionately pushed the faithful hound who accepted the mage's invitation to play by mirroring her stoop, he jumped and barked excitedly as she laughed and danced around him poking and pinching his body while avoiding his playful light nips at her hands and arms. Hawke was determined that nothing was going to spoil her good mood, she was going to tell Bodahn to turn away all and any visitors, take a long hot bath and go back to bed with her favourite book. _Kirkwall can survive without its champion for a single day._

"Messere, Messere, robbery, robbery!" Bodahn yelled interrupting her plans as he ran screaming into the hall barging straight into their playfight. Hawke sighed and stood up dejectedly. Exasperated she waited for the dwarf's explanation patiently but when Bodahn frantically pointed back into the library his anxiety passed to the mage and she mirrored his horrid dread.

She sprinted into the library, the dwarf and Mabari close at her heels. Stopping before her beloved books her eyes hurriedly searched the library shelves running her fingers over the spines as she looked for any obvious spaces.

"No Messere behind you, your portrait!" Bodahn cried anxiously.

Turning her head sharply she followed the dwarf's indications to her painting or at least to the space where her painting had hung. Hawke mouth gaped open at the sight of the very large, very expensive and very empty ornate gold frame. Her surprise quickly turned to amusement and she chuckled in disbelief and admiration as she visualised the clever bard scaling the bookcases to cut her portrait away from the frame.

_Good_, she thought as she left the library dismissing Bodahn's concerns with a wave. Hawke had always hated the bloody thing, it didn't look anything like her.

* * *

><p>So what do you think? Please let me know cause I'm not sure about it but I love R &amp; R.<p>

I can't take credit for the idea that Leliana's body was covered in scars from her torture it came from a beautiful Fanfic I read last year called 'Like a Burning City' by What Ithacas Mean (thank you to palomsky for the reference).

Also if anyone is interested I'm going to start a series of oneshots featuring this Hawke and her relationship with Isabela and the other female members of her companions (no, not like that it won't be a hareem hehehe). I'm planning on posting the first chapter in the next couple of days.

Thank you for persevering with my story and its irregular updates.


End file.
